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Yeah, yeah, same shit, different . . . oh, the hell with it.
Leaving the kitchen, she headed for the second level, carting her hot chocolate with her.
*
That morning, she turned the store sign from CLOSED to OPEN. She'd borrowed some of Alice's clothes, but given the style her own spin, donning a gauzy lavender top over a short, pale green camisole, one that bared her midriff. She coupled it with her own earring choices and a pair of stonewashed jeans that revealed the navel piercing she'd had done with Alice when they were in their early twenties, never realizing that a decade later one of them would be gone. She brushed her hair out until it shone and then caught it in a clip at her shoulders.
Glimpsing herself in one of the display mirrors, she was pleased to see Bohemian sensuality that was approachable, not scary. She might be channeling Alice, but she was going to roll with it, focus on the state of mind that had lingered with her since last night and see where it all took her. Maybe she'd try a different outfit each day, a different style. One day she'd even cross-dress, go Victorian male with trousers, cravat and crisp white shirt. Have a sale on anything in the store with a Man with a Maid theme. Do latex another day, have Mad Max playing on the flat screen up on the wall. Be creative, have fun with it. This didn't have to be about all the other shit.
She propped the door open with the iron doorstop, since it was a pretty enough day to invite in the breeze and sunshine. Troy was making a change to the chalkboard sign out in front of Logan's store. Apparently this week's sale was on manual push mowers. At the sight of her, he grinned, gave her a leer that was more playful than aggressive, making her roll her eyes at him. She was relieved at the lack of awkwardness. But why should there be? For him, it was a training session to benefit him and his Mistress, that was all. It would only be awkward if there was more to it than that for one of the participants, right?
New look, new state of mind. Even so, she thought about that kiss with Logan in the back room. Mental note: stay clear of Logan for a few days.
"Glad to see you open for business," Troy said. "You look great."
It was amazing, how a sincere, appreciative male compliment could affect a woman's ego. "Thanks. I'll have to work on getting the coffee and baked goods started up."
"Praise the gods." He winked.
"I'm not as generous as Alice. There will probably be a charge."
"Maybe we can arrange a barter." The young man leaned on the sandwich board sign. "You know, if you need any maintenance done around Alice's house or here."
"Serious?"
"Serious." He nodded. "I'm buried under student loans. I'd do anything for money, including selling my body, if my Mistress would allow it."
Madison glanced around. "You talk about her so openly."
"Just us here, and you already know about her. I'd talk about Shale all the time if I could."
The S of the brand flashed through her mind. She'd been right about the significance. The way his countenance softened, simply from saying Shale's name, made his feelings clear. It was so easy when you were younger. Of course, he wasn't that much younger than her. Just less scarred. She decided to ignore resentment in favor of curiosity. With Troy, she could consider it market research.
"Isn't she possessive? What Logan did with you last night, that doesn't bug her?"
"Oh yeah. Shale can be mean as a snake if she thinks someone going after what she considers hers. But it's different with Logan. For one thing, he's straight as they come. For another, he gets off on being a Master, no matter if he's topping male or female. You picked up on that?" He gave her a grin, not realizing how directly the arrow hit the sore spot. "Logan's like a really strict football coach. Really strict."
He did a furtive rub of his backside, winked. "Looks like you have a customer."
She pivoted, seeing a woman had stepped into the store while she and Troy were talking. Giving Troy a nod, she shook herself mentally. Different look, different day, different outcome. Go, team!
Crap. It was the pretty girl with dark hair and expressive gray eyes from earlier in the week. The Liv Tyler lookalike. Last time, Madison had inspired nothing in her but a desire to escape. But she'd returned, right? What better opportunity to prove she could do this than to win back a customer?
Her long fingers were caressing the filmy fabric of a baby-doll nightgown, but she had a crease on her brow.
"Anything I can help you with, I'm right here," Madison said warmly. She moved toward her counter. She'd make herself busy with some jewelry rearranging, giving the customer that necessary sense of privacy, rather than projecting a buy expectation, a sure way to run her out of the store. Studying her beneath her lashes, she recalled how Logan had watched Troy, registering every shift in expression, how close he was getting to climax, his wants, his needs. He'd never turned his attention from Troy's mental and physical state, and so now she did the same, judging the girl's body language. What she saw had her ambling out from behind the counter.
"Special occasion, or are you playing with an idea?"
The girl responded with a half laugh. "I think I'm looking for a miracle. A friend of mine came here last year, and she said that you really helped point her in the right direction. I came earlier, last week, an
d didn't get that vibe, but then I thought . . . well, it felt like you had more to give and I should give you another chance. Understand?"
She turned, and met Madison's gaze. Her melodious voice went with her quiet movements, such that Madison saw her as a willow tree, whispering on the banks of a slow-moving creek. Yet what caught Madison was her note of uncertainty, a touch of despair mixed with exasperation. And that note opened a new door inside herself.
Madison suddenly saw her customer, not as an obstacle to surmount, a goal to reach, but as a unique soul like herself, with needs she was having difficulty articulating, possibly because of how deep her desires ran. Just like Madison. But different, too.
Selling wasn't about the seller. This exchange wasn't supposed to be about Madison's experiences and needs, about how great a salesperson she was, how much she could impress herself. It had to be about the buyer, figuring out what she wanted and needed.
